Touched by Chaos
by Generatedname
Summary: Harry first heard the voices when he was five. As he grew older, they became stronger, revealing themselves as gods of Chaos. They accepted Harry, and in turn he accepted them, becoming their champion in the world of wizards, ascending in power in a torrent of blood and madness, for that is the way of Chaos. Rated M just to be on the safe side.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: A story idea that just came to me out of the blue, like most story ideas do, but unlike most, this particular idea stayed around and developed itself beyond a few fight scenes and encounters. With that, I bring to you 'Touched by Chaos', yet another product of my twisted mind! A poll will be up on my profile asking for whether or not I should continue the story or leave it for later as a possible one-off.**

**Chapter 1- Voices**

Harry first heard the voices when he was five. At the time, he had been stricken with a terrible illness, one that left him barely strong enough to feed himself, much less move. However, his guardians, the Dursleys being who they were, had not cared in the slightest, simply locking him in his cupboard under the stairs so that their 'Poor, precious Diddy-kins' did not get infected.

It was in his delirious, starved state that he first heard the whispers. At first he had thought that he was simply hallucinating, the voice simply a figment of his imagination, but it was soon proven to be anything but.

The voice of 'Nurgle', as Harry had learned its name, had whispered to him with a fatherly tone, asking if Harry had liked his gift. When the boy had asked what gift, Nurgle had replied that he was gifted with one of Nurgle's favorite pestilences, one that allowed him to communicate with Harry, despite the worlds between them. While Harry was, at first, horrified, Nurgle had soon explained to him, like a father telling his son about the virtues of vegetables, that the disease was a blessing, not a curse. After all, weren't the survivors of a plague immune to any sort of relapse? Harry would heal, and he would grow stronger as a result. Seeing the logic behind this, a young, five year old Harry Potter soon took to constantly speaking with his friend, who accepted him for what he was, never saying an unkind word to him, never hitting him for slipping up, and giving him a multitude of wondrous gifts! As Harry was stricken with disease after disease, his body grew stronger and more resilient, so that by the time he was six, he was practically immune to any disease!

Four months after Harry had first heard from Nurgle, a second voice appeared in his head. Unlike the fatherly, caring tone of Nurgle, 'Tzeentch' was anything but fatherly, giving the impression of a strict schoolmaster who was kind but firm, quick to discipline any wayward students, but also more than willing to impart knowledge to those willing to learn.

Tzeentch had spoken to young Harry, spinning tales of the wondrous magicks that the boy could be capable, if he was only willing to allow Tzeentch into his heart and soul. The young Harry had immediately accepted, and Tzeentch soon became a presence in his everyday life, just like Nurgle. While Nurgle gifted him with diseases to strengthen his body, Tzeentch taught him magic. He taught Harry how to manipulate minds, how to hurt and even kill anyone with the powers of his mind. It was Tzeentch's influence that caused Harry to take revenge on his abusive guardians, and soon their nights were plagued with terrible nightmares of them being devoured by hundreds of daemons.

Next came Khorne. Khorne first spoke to Harry in the middle of a playground, where a group of older boys had appeared to torment the younger, sickly Harry. Unlike Tzeentch and Nurgle, who had both whispered to Harry, Khorne shouted.

"**_Will you really let those weaklings continue to dominate you, when you could easily destroy them? Prove to me that you are more than some fool my fellow gods have taken pity on!"_** Khorne had shouted, startling Harry. However, the God, for that is what Harry knew him to be, spoke truth. Consumed in a terrifying rage, Harry had leaped forward and delivered a terrible blow to one of the bullies' skulls, breaking the older boy's nose and knocking him out. The rest were easy pickings, being knocked out with a plethora of broken limbs and blood flowing freely from wounds where Harry had clawed and bit them. The Dursleys were horrified, and they took the fear out on Harry, locking him away once again, but Harry did not care. He knew he was strong, and that pleasure in his strength called Slaanesh to him.

With a silky voice promising innumerable pleasures, Slaanesh had visited Harry, deeming him worthy of his attentions. With the four gods of Chaos deeming him a worthy individual, Harry threw himself, heart and soul, into his worship of the four. His first sacrifices were animals, brained with rocks or brought in alive as the gods demanded. As rewards for his sacrifices, the gods blessed Harry, Nurgle giving him incredible resilience, Tzeentch revealing secret sorceries that defied even the laws of magic, Khorne granting immense physical prowess, and Slaanesh stimulating him to pleasures unheard of.

Carving the symbols and stars of the gods into his skin, Harry grew from an abused child to a powerful emissary of Chaos, just as was planned.

* * *

><p>A nine year old Harry sat in the cupboard, now twisted into something that most mortal minds could not comprehend. In his hand, he held a dagger, an eight pointed star in the weapon's pommel. Harry began to chant, the dagger glowing with forbidden power as it was prepared for tonight's ritual. Tonight was Dudley's birthday, after all, and Harry did not want to disappoint!<p>

His chanting finished, Harry slid the knife into the long sleeve of his shirt, the sacrificial blade ready for use, already thirsting for blood. He waited for the party going on above his head to die down, his cousin's friends eventually leaving the house. It was a pity that their souls couldn't be given over to the gods this day, but a mass disappearance would bring the local law enforcement down on his head, and while he could doubtlessly slaughter them, Tzeentch had ordered him to stay his hand, saying that Harry was to stay undetected for now, the reasons behind his orders unknown to the young disciple of Chaos.

Finally, when only four people remained in the house besides himself, them being Vernon and Petunia, as well as Dudley and his Aunt Marge, Harry slipped out of the locked cupboard, his power easily ripping the cupboard door from its hinges.

His hand clutching tightly on the knife's grip, Harry made his way upstairs, every step slow and deliberate. Finally, he stood before the door to Dudley's room. Without a knock, he entered, the door swinging open at his behest. The room's four occupants stared at him.

"What are you doing up here, freak!" Petunia shouted.

"Why, I simply have a present to give to Dudley, and now that everyone else is gone, I can give it to him!" Harry said cheerfully, a hint of madness in his voice.

"What are you blathering about? Go back to your cupboard, freak!" Vernon shouted, his face red from alcohol.

"I will, but first I wish to give you all my gift!" Harry said, before drawing his knife with a flick of his wrist and starting to laugh. At first, his laugh was that of a nine year old child, happy and without a care in the world, but it soon grew dark, deranged, as if a mad god was standing there in Harry's place. A wave of his empty hand closed all exits, leaving his foster family trapped in the room with him. Sensing its impending use, the knife began to shriek in anticipation, the noise otherworldly and terrifying. Dudley screamed in response, the entire family shrinking back as Harry advanced on them, screaming knife in hand. However, rather than stab them all then and there, Harry delivered four powerful blows with the pommel of the weapon, the mere touch of the cursed knife sending his victims into a nightmare filled sleep.

Dragging their unconscious bodies down to his cupboard, which had been significantly expanded by Harry's sorcery, Harry laid the four bodies across four altars, binding them there with powerful chains which had been provided for him by Tzeentch and Khorne.

Knife in hand, Harry willed for the four sacrifices to wake. Every god save Nurgle had claimed one of their souls as their own, Nurgle abstaining as he simply cared for Harry for who he was, not for the sacrifices he brought. The four Dursleys woke screaming, and continued to scream as they realized where they were, their eyes drawn to the giant, eight pointed star painted in what looked like blood on the ceiling. Harry laughed as his foster family screamed, the light and childish peals of laughter contrasting sharply with the screams of terror from his victims.

"You should all feel honored! The Chaos gods have asked for your souls specifically, and I intend to provide for them!" Harry laughed as he walked over to Vernon.

"You freak! Once I get out of here, I'm calling the police to take you to jail where you belong!" Vernon shouted.

"You have some fight in you! I see why Khorne wanted your soul! YOUR BLOOD SHALL PLEASE KHORNE!" Harry shouted, before stabbing the knife, which glowed with a blood-red light, deep into Vernon's chest before reaching into the open wound and ripping his heart out, crushing the organ with his bare hand and sending blood all over the room. Then, with a second cut, Harry removed Vernon's head, the flesh burning away in a burst of blue fire. The smell of fire and brimstone filled the air.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE OF KHORNE!" Harry shouted as he held the skull aloft in his bloodstained hands, Vernon's headless corpse releasing a seemingly infinite torrent of blood behind him. Putting the skull down, Harry moved on to Petunia, who was shaking in fear, having just seen her husband slaughtered like an animal in front of her.

"Petunia, Tzeentch has expressed an interest in the faint magic in your blood. He wishes to study you! You should be elated at the opportunity!" Harry cackled, before driving the knife, which now glowed a blinding blue, into his aunt's chest. Petunia's skin began to bubble and shift, its owner screaming in agony, her body slowly tearing itself apart. Finally, after what could have been either an eternity or an instant, Harry withdrew the knife, Petunia's body burning away in a plume of azure fire.

Harry laughed as he walked over to Marge, who had frozen in terror, eyes shut tight.

"Margie! Grandfather Nurgle wants to share his gifts with you! He loves you very much, just like he loves me! Come and join him!" Harry said, his childish voice carrying no malice, rather, it contained only happiness... and a terrible madness. Jabbing the now green knife into her chest, he watched with childish anticipation as Marge's body rapidly decayed in front of him, a most foul stench filling the room, mixing with the scent of brimstone and magic. Finally, when even her bones had crumbled to dust, Harry picked up the knife and walked over to Dudley, who was bawling his eyes out at the scene before him.

"Cousin Dudley, Slaanesh wishes to meet you! He promised me infinite pleasures if only I deliver you to him, and I'll do just that! Who knows, maybe he'll even give you some of his gifts!" Harry said, before laughing once again as he plunged the now pink knife into Dudley's chest.

Dudley's last few seconds were spent alternating between extremes of pain and pleasure, his body giving out from the sheer strain of the shifting sensations. With his sacrifice completed, Harry turned to the center of the room, where a portal had begun to open. As the rip in reality yawned wide before him, Harry caught his first true glimpse of the warp... and it was beautiful. Ever shifting, arranging itself into countless impossible patterns, the Warp beckoned to him. Harry walked up to it, stopping at the brink of the abyss. Gazing into the beautiful sight before him, Harry felt the presence of his four gods strengthen within his soul. Then, the energies of the warp poured forth, consuming Harry and granting him the blessing of his four patron deities, the power surging through him making the boons previously granted to him seem pitiful by comparison.

Nurgle's gift came first, the plaguefather's power granting him a resilience against all physical harm, making him nearly impossible to kill through physical means. Thousands of pockets of disease and poison formed just below the boy's skin, the diseases within lying dormant, waiting to be unleashed upon the world.

Next came Tzeentch's gift, a surge of both power and knowledge unlike any Harry had felt before. He felt his magical potential increase exponentially, while his skin built up an incredible resistance to the same magic. Finally, immense amounts of knowledge had appeared in Harry's head, giving him both the raw power and the knowledge to bring ruin to entire nations with ease.

Khorne's gift followed, the blood god not wishing to be outdone by his brethren. Immense physical strength and combat instinct was transferred over. Harry could now fight with near any weapon, and could easily lift ten times his weight without breaking a sweat.

Finally, Slaanesh came forth. Rather than the other three gods, who gave their gifts with a detached interest, Slaanesh's avatar, a fraction of the god's true power, embraced Harry, causing pleasures to shoot through his body. When the god of pleasure finally let go, Harry was changed. Where before he looked like a starved, gaunt child, Harry was now beautiful. Silky black hair fell to his shoulders, while his brilliant green eyes were like jewels set in skin of pure white ivory. His facial features were now arranged perfectly, and his musculature showed throughout his now healthy body.

Unknown to Harry, Slaanesh had used the opportunity to devour the parasite he had noticed leeching off of Harry's own soul. After all, he couldn't have his key to this world weakened by some pathetic mortal's feeble attempts at holding on to life now, could he?

With Voldemort's soul fragment gone, the scar on Harry's forehead vanished, replaced by a thinly traced eight pointed star. It was the star of Chaos Undivided. The gods had acknowledged Harry Potter as their champion in this world, and Harry did not intend to disappoint.

Chuckling with glee at his newfound gifts, Harry watched as the portal to the Warp closed, severing his most intimate contact with the Chaos gods, leaving them, once again, as voices in his mind.

* * *

><p>The next two years passed with Harry learning to master his newfound power. When people came to investigate the Dursleys' disappearances, they disappeared as well, sacrificed without a hint of their demise reaching the outside world. The house quickly gained a reputation as being haunted, and during the Halloween of Harry's tenth year of life, several kids, mostly friends of Dudley, had entered on a dare. Harry had sacrificed them to his gods as well, although he let their screams sound out beyond the confines of the house. As his eleventh birthday drew ever closer, Harry had summoned his first Daemon, a Nurgling. He smiled as the little pustule scampered around his house, laughing as the tiny effigy of Nurgle groaned, vomiting all over the now tainted floor. Then, exactly one week before his birthday, an owl dropped a letter into the house's mail slot.<p>

Sensing Tzeentch's urge to read it, Harry picked it up. It was addressed:

_Mr. H. Potter._

_4. Privet Drive,_

_Little Whingig, _

_Surrey._

Opening the letter, Harry read the contents to himself:

_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards.)_

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31st._

_Yours Sincerely, _

_Professor Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress._

Harry then took out the enclosed supply list, looking it over.

First-year students will require:

Uniform-

Three sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)

One plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear

One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One Winter Cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that students' clothing should carry name-tags at all times.

Books-

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment-

1 Wand

1 Cauldron (Pewter, Standard Size 2)

1 Set of Glass or Crystal Phials

1 Telescope

1 Set of Brass Scales

Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

Harry read the supply list twice over, committing it to memory.

"_Yes, you are to go to this school, Champion, for it is there that you will reach your next stage in terms of usefulness..." _Tzeentch's voice whispered in his head.

'Were you already aware of this?' Harry asked.

"_Of course I was, fool! I am Tzeentch, the Lord of Sorcery, the knower of all things! Of course I knew that this would happen! Now, the supplies can be easily provided. I can provide the robes and *sigh* the pointed hat, and Khorne can easily provide the gloves. I am sure Nurgle would be happy to give you one of his spare cauldrons and some phials, and the rest can easily be purchased. Now, you are to send the reply back immediately, to be written as follows:  
><em>

_To Whomever it May Concern_

_I, Harry James Potter, sincerely accept your invitation to the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I shall have obtained the pre-requisite supplies by the time you receive this letter, and will look forward to a memorable experience at Hogwarts._

_Sincerely, _

_Harry James Potter."_

Harry finished writing the letter, following Tzeentch's instructions to the letter. Then, after folding the weapon into an envelope, he threw it out of the window, casting a compulsion on the owl to take the letter back to its master. Putting on a new set of clothes, Harry walked out of the house, following Tzeentch's guidance. As if he was nothing more than a human puppet, Harry slowly walked all the way to an old looking pub, the Leaky Cauldron. He opened the door, his supernatural beauty drawing the eyes of everyone in the pub, female and otherwise. Ignoring the looks cast in his direction, Harry walked into the back room, before taking his finger and tapping a set of bricks in a sequence. The wall slid out, and Harry walked on, still following his god's will. Proceeding onward to a large bank, Gringotts, Harry entered. As soon as he did, all activity inside the bank ground to a halt.

Harry walked up to one of the desks, aware of every eye in the massive building fixed on him. The humans looked at him in wonder, and sometimes in lust, as they noticed his physical appearance. The goblins though... they had naked fear in their eyes.

"Hello! My name is Harry James Potter, and I wish to make a withdrawal from my family vault." Harry said, his voice cheerful.

"I- I would need proof that you are indeed Harry Potter before you can make any alterations to the vault's contents. A small amount of blood should be sufficient." The goblin replied, trying hard not to break and flee from the abomination he sensed standing before him.

Drawing his old sacrificial dagger, Harry pricked the tip of his finger, causing a single drop of blood to fall into an indicated receptacle, the drop landing on a special magic analyzer, which reported that Harry was indeed himself. Unknown to the goblin that analyzed the blood, said blood contained a particularly virulent strain of Goblin Pox, which would be the start of an immense epidemic that would rage unimpeded throughout the goblin population several years later, killing thousands in Nurgle's name.

Harry followed the now 'gifted' goblin into a cart, where he was then taken for a rather exciting ride through a tunnel network, eventually finding himself at the Potter vault. A simple insert of a key, and the vault opened.

"Thank you, Mister Goblin!" Harry said, his voice delighted as he beheld the piles of gold in front of him, the sight of the shining metal mountains being more than enough to stimulate the greed of Slaanesh. Packing as much of the precious gold away, Harry returned to the goblin, the vault shutting behind him.

"_This security is simply dreadful! You should really ensure that your valuables are more secure, Harry! I'm thinking a few Daemonettes here, maybe a Daemon Engine there, and Presto! No thieves shall ever touch your golden horde!"_

The voice of Slaanesh sounded in his head.

'I was thinking the same thing uncle neshie!' Harry thought back. Slaanesh, being the youngest of the four gods, as well as the god of pleasure, was much less formal with Harry, just like 'Papa Nurgle'.

Harry ordered the goblin to re-open the door. Once the door was opened, Harry began to chant, his magic quickly pulling twisted, hellish metal from the depths of the warp, the metal forming together into a giant, bipedal metal monstrosity. The goblin in the cart practically pissed himself in fear as the Hellslicer claws of the Slaanesh Subjugator attached themselves to the sides of the massive Daemon engine. Finally, a pair of Tormentor cannons and a set of sonic weapons were attached to the metal monster, completing the empty shell. Then, Harry began to chant again, this time opening a rip in reality through which a host of Daemons came through, the Slaaneshi Daemons entering the Daemon engine and being bound inside of it. With the metal guardian complete, Harry closed the vault door and told the petrified goblin to take him out, all with a happy, childish smile on his face.

Once he was out of the bank, Tzeentch's guidance suddenly withdrew from his mind, leaving behind a parting measure.

"_I will now leave you to your own devices. A word of advice, I suggest perusing Knockturn Alley for rare reagents and artifacts, as well as obtaining some... exotic reagents for your wand, as the mundane twigs they call wands here will be worthless to you. You are to direct any request for funds to Slaanesh." _Tzeentch said, before falling silent, no doubt off to go planning somewhere.

Taking Tzeentch's advice, Harry headed off towards Knockturn alley, his senses scanning for the warp presence of powerful artifacts. He wasn't disappointed, as he almost immediately picked up the warp signature of a Daemon weapon somewhere within the maze of passageways that was Knockturn alley. While it wasn't a particularly strong signature, indicating that it was likely only containing a lesser Daemon, but it was still leagues ahead of anything that the walking jokes that seemed to call themselves wizards on his world could produce. After a few minutes of running, he finally found his quarry, located inside a dinghy shop.

He walked inside, scanning the inside of the shop. A star of Chaos emblazoned on a piece of parchment, which was in turn posted on a wall near the back of the shop, caught his eye. Picking up the daemonic spear, a weapon that Harry recognized as an Ether Lance, a weapon that could either fire powerful bolts of warp energy or draw its victims into itself, using their souls to power itself.

A wizard chose that moment to walk out of the back room, noticing that he had a customer. At first he adopted a look of bored disinterest, but as Harry drew closer, Ether Lance in hand, the man spotted the eight pointed star emblazoned on the green eyed boy's head.

"It's been a while since I've seen that symbol, young man. In fact, I'm still trying to decipher what it means! I don't suppose you would know what it means, now would you? My family has been collecting artifacts with that mark on them for generations, and we still know nothing about what made them! Strange things, they are, I could have sworn I heard that one sword whisper..." The man trailed off as Harry walked behind the counter, green eyes blazing with excitement and a hand gripping his sacrificial knife tightly.

"It is the symbol of Chaos!" Harry said, a smile on his face. "I'm sure you want to know all about it, but first..." Harry drew the knife, the weapon already screaming. "...It's time for a sacrifice! For Chaos!" Harry giggled, before kicking the man down, his scream silenced by a hand clapping down across his mouth. Before the man had a chance to struggle, the knife plunged down, slicing into the man's chest.

"I wonder what god you're going to appease!" Harry said, before the man's body began to morph and bubble, before finally vanishing in a burst of blue fire. "Tzeentch it is then!" He exclaimed, before withdrawing the knife, placing it back into the hidden sheath on his wrist. "I guess everything in this store is mine now! I wonder what else there is here." Harry said, before remembering that he had nowhere to put his newfound loot. After a short pout, he suddenly remembered that there was a store selling specialized trunks that could contain entire rooms or even houses inside of themselves.

Placing down the Ether Lance to act as a beacon to allow him to return to the now vacant store, Harry sprinted out of the store, sprinting all the way to Madame Volumin's Magical Trunks. Entering the shop, he walked up to the desk, a cheerful smile on his face, as if he hadn't killed someone in cold blood less than ten minutes before.

"I would like a trunk!" He said in an upbeat voice.

"Oh? What kind?" The old woman minding the store asked, a smile on her face. The young tykes these days, so innocent and full of cheer!

"Sixteen rooms, plenty of storage space, at least one large, circular room for spell experimentation, a library, a well vented room for alchemical experiments, oh, and a full bathroom please. Leave all the other rooms empty, please!" Harry ordered, speaking rapidly.

"Very well. Any preferences to external appearance?"

"No, I will decorate it myself, but thank you for asking!" Harry said. Best be courteous with future sacrifices, after all, it makes it so much easier to gift them to the dark gods.

It was several minutes before the order was done, a much younger assistant, one who couldn't have been older than nineteen or twenty, walked out carrying the trunk. She froze as she caught sight of Harry. Then, putting down the trunk, she rushed over to him, having been caught in the allure of Slaanesh.

"HE'S SO CUUUUUTE!" The girl squealed. That was unexpected. Within seconds of the girl's shout, Harry had been swept off his feet and was being cradled to the older girl's chest as she rocked him back and forth. He was dimly aware of Slaanesh laughing his/her ass off in his realm of the warp.

Eventually, he managed to struggle his way out of the girl's iron grip, grab his trunk, and run out of the store, trunk held high over his head, as he sprinted towards the store dealing in Chaos artifacts. Harry knew that the Warp linked multiple realms, and that artifacts might cross over from one realm to another, but to find such a large concentration of said Chaos artifacts was most fortuitous.

Entering the store, he let the looting instinct of his Slaaneshi aspect of Greed take over, and he quickly and efficiently packed everything that wasn't bolted down, and quite a few things that were, into his trunk. Finally, when there was not a single warp signature remaining, Harry decided that now was a good time to acquire the necessary reagents for a wand suitable for a champion of Chaos. Using sorcery to blacken the glass of the storefront, Harry prepared to summon a host of four daemons. The first daemon to be summoned was a Khornate Bloodletter. The red, horned Daemon looked about to charge, but stopped when Harry spoke.

"Daemon of mighty Khorne! I challenge you to single combat!" Harry said, voice serious. Pulling a Dreadaxe, a powerful axe instilled with a thirst for the souls of other daemons, from its place near the top of the trunk.

The bloodletter roared its acceptance, waiting to allow Harry to ready his weapon. Then, at an unspoken command, both combatants charged. Blocking the daemon's first blow, Harry roared in anger, allowing the bloodlust of Khorne to take him over. The fight lasted for less than a minute, but during that time the two contestants had blocked and dodged over a hundred blows each. Finally, Harry's axe found purchase in the bloodletter's side, causing the daemon to fall to the ground, bested. Pulling out a vial that he had found lying around in the back of the store, Harry quickly bent over the rend in the bloodletter's side, quickly filling the vial with the bright, burning blood of the Khornate Daemon. Then, as soon as Harry had finished his task, the rest of the Daemon vanished, leaving only its Hellblade and Collar of Khorne behind. Grabbing both of the daemonic items, Harry prepared to summon his next Daemon.

The next daemon to be summoned was a Nutglite Plaguebearer. This time, rather than undergo a trial by combat, Harry decided to simply ask politely for what he wanted.

"Say, Mr. Plaguebearer, do you have a small amount of small intestine you could possibly spare? I would really appreciate if you could please give me about a foot of intestine, Mr. Plaguebearer." Harry said.

"Sure thing, kiddo!" The plaguebearer spoke with the jovial, fatherly voice of Nurgle, which belied its form as a bloated, diseased human. Nurglite daemons were always easy to deal with, once you built up a resistance to the millions of plagues that called their bodies home. This particular plaguebearer then looked down, and with a single, messy swipe of its plaguesword, sliced off about three or so feet of small intestine.

"Keep the change, kiddo." The jolly daemon said, before returning to the immaterium, allowing Harry to summon the next Daemon, this one being a daemonette of Slaanesh. The crab clawed female daemon wore a sultry grin as she materialized.

"Well, well, well... What do we have here, handsome?" The daemonette said in a low, husky voice.

"Nothing much. I'd just like some of your hair. Reagents and all." Harry replied, once again keeping his voice serious.

"Oh really now... I might be able to provide that, but it comes at a price~! You see, it's been a while since I've had some decent action, if ya know what I mean, and I would appreciate it if you could, ya know... scratch that itch of mine. Who knows, I might even scratch back!" The Daemonette purred.

Sighing, Harry dropped his pants. It wasn't the first time he had made deals of this kind with Daemonettes, so he might as well get it over with.

{This lemon has been lost in the Warp. It will likely never return.}

Almost 2 hours later, Harry finally had the reagent he had summoned the rather... energetic Daemonette for. A lock of Daemonette hair rested nearby, right next to a stinking length of intestine and a vial of perpetually boiling blood.

Then, he summoned the final daemon, raising his Dreadaxe as the flamer of Tzeentch came through. The flamer was not a sentient daemon, so Harry simply chopped it as it materialized, before bottling some of the perpetually burning ichor that leaked from the lesser Daemon's wound.

With all the reagents gathered, he got to work. Quickly mixing the blood and ichor together, he put the Daemonette hair in to soak in the resulting liquid. Finally, he poured the result into the Plaguebearer intestine, which had recently been sown shut with a portion of daemonette hair. Severing the length that he did not need, Harry sewed the remaining side of intestine shut, before using sorcery to dry and shrink the result, which ended up as a thin, shriveled length of Chaos essence. The perfect core for a Chaos wand.

Finding a small tree out in front of the store, Harry yanked it out of the ground before opening a portal to the Warp, shoving the tree into the swirling portal. The tree twisted and groaned under the stress, before Harry finally judged that it was mutated enough and pulled it out. He then took his Dreadaxe and severed any un-mutated bits, before carving out a suitable hunk of warped wood for wandmaking, before cheerfully skipping down towards Ollivander's.

Reaching the wandmaker's store, Harry entered without knocking, the bell above the door announcing his entrance. Sensing the shop owner's presence behind a line of nearby shelves, Harry called out loudly:

"I'm looking to have a custom wand made! I have all the materials provided, I just need someone to put it together!" Harry said, just as Ollivander came out from behind a corner.

"A custom wand, you say? Interesting, it has certainly been a while since I have made one of those. Why do you want a wand custom made, though? I am certain that there is a wand suitable for you somewhere here. What is your name, young man?" Ollivander asked.

"Oh, I'm Harry Potter! I want a custom wand because I don't think there is a wand good for me here. If you can prove me wrong though, I'll share with you how I got these reagents." Harry said.

"Oh? Very well then." The wand maker said, taking a critical look at his customer, before pulling out a wand from one of the shelves.

"Yew and Dragon Heartstring, a rather supple wand. Give it a wave, will you?" The man said, handing Harry the wand. A quick flick of his wrist, and the wand exploded like a firecracker, its mundane magical core unable to take the strain, sending shards of wood all over the shop.

"I see... Let's try this one, shall we? Ash with unicorn hair." The result was the same, an explosion.

"Definitely not that one, I see. Try this one. Holly and Phoenix Feather, an unusual combination, but one I think might suit you." As Harry waved it, it seemed to release a faint trail of multicolored sparks for a moment, before it too exploded.

"I see. Very well then, Mr. Potter, I shall have this wand done by this time tomorrow. I must confess, though, this is a rather... interesting core." Ollivander said, examining the Daemon gut wrapped materials.

"I know!" Harry said, "I'll see you later!"

Harry left the shop, leaving an old wandmaker to his work.

* * *

><p>The rest of the shopping trip went by fairly quickly, with minimal sacrifices, Harry returned home to find the already Chaos infested house full of even more gifts for him. Tzeentch had indeed provided him with clothing, the black robes coated with hundreds of Chaos runes, promising protection against almost every magic, as well as from many physical attacks. The cauldron was provided by Nurgle, being a tiny copy of his Cauldron of Pestilence, with but a fraction of the power. The ensemble was completed by a set of black leather armor provided by Khorne, to be worn over the robes for additional protection, and jewelry from Slaanesh, with gems in the form of all the different marks and stars of the Chaos gods, as well as the star of Chaos Undivided. Each was designed to give its wearer the blessing of its respective Chaos God. When he asked Slaanesh why he needed them for each individual god when he already had the Undivided necklace, Slaanesh had replied that it was a plan of Tzeentch to make them, which would be revealed in time.<p>

Smiling at his new gifts, Harry went to sleep, ready to play a further part in his gods' plans the next day.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I know the Chaos Gods, specifically Tzeentch and Slaanesh, are acting WAAAAAY OOC, which is all according to plan. Khorne will be a bloodthirsty berserker, Tzeentch will be a stern but friendly teacher, Nurgle will be the big, kind, disease riddled grandfather, and Slaanesh will be the perverted but well meaning uncle.**

**More specifically, those are the personas that they will show to Harry. After all, children can be easily manipulated with a friendly face, so the gods take up friendlier personas to more easily manipulate him, until he no longer cares what his masters act like, upon which they reveal their true nature. In the cases of Nurgle and Khorne, it shouldn't change much, but Slaanesh, and even more so, Tzeentch, are to some extent using a false persona to manipulate Harry.**

**I'll soon have a poll up on my profile to ask you whether I should continue this story or not.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I am thrilled by the positive reception that this story has received since it has been released. The poll has been closed, with this chapter being proof of the overwhelming 'yes' vote.**

**KEY:**

**"_BLOOD FOR ME! SKULLS FOR MY PIMP THRONE!"- Khorne speaking._**

_"Ugh, he's having another one of his episodes again... Nurgle, shut him up." - Other Chaos Gods speaking._

'It's time for a sacrifice!' - Harry communicating with Chaos.

"Just as planned..." - Regular speech.

**Chapter 2- Wands, Champions, and Chaos**

Harry strode into Ollivander's, the usual spring in his step. His new rune covered robes streamed behind him, the runes on them constantly shifting, creating a layer of adaptive protection that could never be overcome.

"Ah, Mr. Potter! Your wand is ready, and will be available to you for the usual fee. However, I was intrigued by the components you have provided me. By all rights, the wood you gave me is an impossibility, while the core was... unusual, to say the least." Ollivander said. Little did he know that the Plaguebearer's intestine contained a nasty strain of Wizarding Rickets, a debilitating disease that would plague the old wand maker to his dying day.

"Oh, I just found them lying around! I modified the wood myself! Did you like it?" Harry said, brimming with childish enthusiasm. Like any child, Harry liked his skills praised. In fact, the only difference between Harry and his fellow first years was that Harry could set off the maternal/mating instincts of almost any woman who so much as looked at him, and the tiny fact that Harry was a mentally unstable super-human devoted to worshipping a quartet of immortal and immoral beings that demanded frequent human sacrifices. Said Chaos gods were the only parental figures that Harry had ever known, so Harry knew no other lifestyle than what was demanded of him.

"Anyway, here's the money!" Harry said, producing a small bag of Galleons from his pocket and plopping them down in front of the old and soon to be disease stricken wand maker.

"Very well. Here is your wand. Sixteen inches, unknown core, unknown wood, unusually long for a wand. Give it a wave, will you? I wish to see if my skill with wandmaking is as good as others claim it is."

"Allright!" Harry said, taking the offered wand and giving it a wave. Immediately, the instrument came alive in Harry's hands, blazing with bright blue fire. A deathly wail, like the scream of a banshee, filled the air, as the wand itself seemed to be screaming as a minute amount of pure Chaos power coursed through it. Then, half a second later, the wand stopped moving, and the energy within was released. A crackling bolt of teal lightning shot from the wand's end, slamming into a shelf across from Harry, the chaos energy released quickly mutating the wands within so that they each contained a small piece of the Warp. Outwardly, however, no damage seemed to have been done.

"Merlin's beard Mr. Potter! At least the wand did not explode, but that? It seems to indicate great power, as most first-years struggle to produce more than a few sparks! Now I see how you could have possibly defeated He-who-must-not-be-named. With such power, a burst of accidental magic as a baby could have easily crushed the dark lord!" Ollivander cried.

"Dark lord?" Harry asked, having never heard the term before.

"You mean you don't know? When you were a child, you defeated the dark lord, He-who-must-not-be-named! You survived the Killing Curse, the only individual ever known to have survived it in fact! You are a hero, Mr. Potter!"

"Really? I never knew!"

"I suppose you wouldn't have, what with you being spirited away to your relatives after your parents died. They must have wanted to keep you humble by withholding the information, I suppose. Anyway, I bid you farewell, young Harry. I hope that we meet again." Ollivander said.

"Goodbye Mr. Ollivander!" Harry said happily as he ran out of the door. As he did so, he crashed into a certain blonde haired boy who, along with his father, was coming to buy a wand.

"Watch where you're going, imbecile!" The boy said as he stood up, making a show of dusting off his robes.

"Hello! My name is Harry Potter! What is yours?" Harry asked, still lying down on the ground, ignoring the insult. As he said the name, the behavior of the older man, likely the blonde's father, changed. Where he was once simply annoyed, now an aura of barely contained malice and curiosity leaked from the man's every pore.

"Potter, you say?" The man said, scanning Harry's forehead, eyes alighting on the star of Chaos etched into the boy's forehead. His eyes narrowed, the man doubtlessly sensing some form of power in the rune. "I was of the impression that Harry Potter had a scar in the shape of a bolt of lightning on his forehead, something which you lack."

"Of course! I used to have a scar like that, but my Uncle cured it for me Now I have this instead!" Harry gestured to the eight pointed star.

"It is a strange rune. Would you happen to know its meaning?" The man asked.

"Oh I do, but I'm not gonna tell you!" Harry sang. The man's annoyance grew.

"Then it seems that I am wasting my time here. Come, Draco. Let us leave this filth in the mud where he belongs."

"Yes, father." The boy, Draco, said. Just then, the voice of Slaanesh whispered in Harry's head.

"_Oh yes, that one is... interesting. I suggest that you give him the necklace bearing my mark, as he would be a useful tool to me." _The Prince of Pleasure said. Harry leaped up off the ground, and in the span of a second, he overtook the pair that was walking up the steps to Ollivander's.

"Draco, was it? One of the items in my possession seems to resonate with your magical presence. Here, take it!" Harry lied, before pulling the pendant bearing a detailed amethyst and gold mark of Slaanesh on it. Looping it around the boy's neck before Draco had a chance to protest, Harry then stepped back, looking critically at his work. Already, Draco's warp signature, previously barely noticeable, was now growing and shifting, creating a dark, pink aura, indicative of Slaanesh's influence. The once inert amethyst making up the element began to faintly glow, indicating that the amulet had granted the Prince of Pleasure's blessing to the young boy. Now cloaked in an unnerving glamour and capable of releasing a powerful, warp infused scream, the young blonde suddenly began to experience every sensation anew, the simplest feeling causing waves of pleasure to course through his body.

The sudden surge of power did not go unnoticed by the boy's father. Lucius Malfoy's eyes narrowed as he saw magical energy began to ripple faintly around his son, much like it did around the supposed Harry Potter.

"Oh, and before I forget, come with me, Draco. The blessing you received has altered your magical core, to the point that ordinary wands won't work for you. Fortunately for you, I happen to have just the right components to make the perfect custom wand, I just need to fetch them. Follow me if you want to see them." Harry said, his voice losing some, but not all, of its childish tone, shifting more into a Tzeentchy domain.

Harry led the Malfoys deep into Knockturn Alley, arriving at the store where Harry had found the Chaos relics. His trunk still lay there, concealed by a spell taught to him by Slaanesh. Dispelling the illusion with a flick of his hand, Harry reached in, pulling out a few strands of Daemonette hair, followed by a small chunk of warp-cursed wood.

"Use these. They should make a suitable wand for your son." Harry said, holding out the two reagents. Looking curiously at the two items, the father, Lucius Malfoy, as Harry had learned, asked a question.

"What is this?"

"The hair is from a... certain creature I made a deal with, while the wood is from a tree that I mutated with my magic." Harry said in his serious, Tzeentchy voice.

"And they will help my son how?"

"With his magical core modified by the amulet, Draco's ambient magical power far outstrips the mundane wands that Ollivander sells. These ingredients are more in tune with the magic of his amulet, and thus with the magic that now fills Draco."

"Very well. I suppose I should thank you for the assistance. Come, Draco. Let us get your wand made." With that, Lucius turned and exited the empty store, his son following. As he left, the whispers of three of the Chaos Gods filled his head.

"_It seems that Slaanesh has gone ahead and chosen a secondary champion for his personal use in this world. It behooves the rest of us to do the same. I will guide you to one I have found suitable." _Tzeentch's voice hissed through his head.

"_**I, for once, agree with you. I have already found one that may suit me, although only time will tell if the whelp is worthy of my power! I, Khorne, shall guide you to the one that shall bathe the world in**_** blood!"** Khorne declared.

_"I suppose that I should pick a champion as well... It's so hard to pick just one to give my gifts to, though..." _Nurgle mused.

With that in mind, Harry strode out of the shop, his trunk floating along behind him. He decided to follow Tzeentch's guidance first, and was soon led into the throng milling about in the main street of Diagon Alley. Following the guidance, Harry soon spotted his target, a bushy haired girl being led by an old looking witch in emerald green robes. Leaping into the air, the display startling many of the wizards around him, Harry landed in front of the pair. Turning towards them, Harry put on a childish smile and spoke.

"Hello! My name is Harry Potter! Pleasure to meet you!" He said with childish glee, ignoring the gasps that the name drew.

"Harry Potter? I know that-" The bushy haired girl never had a chance to finish, as Harry cut her off, voice shifting into a more serious tone.

"Yes, I defeated the Dark Lord, but that doesn't matter right now. However, one of the magical artifacts in my possession seems to have reacted favorably with your magical presence! Would you like to see it?" Harry asked, his voice turning childish at the end.

"What? Why I-" The tall, green clothed witch tried to speak, but the girl cut her off.

"What is it?" She asked.

"This!" Harry said, grabbing the necklace and looping it around the girl's neck before she had a chance to respond. The sapphire and gold mark of Tzeentch glowed as it touched the girl's skin.

"Mr. Potter! Just what do you think you are doing with an unknown artifact like that?" The witch finally got a chance to ask. Harry ignored her, instead focusing on the young girl's warp presence, her aura now glowing a bright turquoise. The girl in question gasped as blue flames played across her arm as she waved it, the warpfire cool and pleasant on her skin, the Mark of Tzeentch granting her not only increased magical strength, but also immense psychic power and magic resilience.

"Oh, and with regards to your wand, take these." Harry said, voice growing serious once again. He handed her a chunk of corrupted wood, as well as his remaining Flamer ichor, the burning liquid having dried into a scintillating powder, one that seemed to be constantly shifting colors, like a faded, pale image of the Warp. "These reagents should allow for a wand of suitable power to be constructed for you at Ollivander's, as the more mundane wands there will not react favorably with your significantly empowered magic field." Harry said, before leaping away, once again startling the crowd, moving to follow Khorne's guidance. Sprinting to the next child, one that already bore a spiritual mark of Khorne, Harry soon saw his target, a young, slightly chubby boy being accompanied by another old witch, one clad in furs and wearing a strange, vulture topped hat and carrying a bright red handbag.

"Hello!" Harry greeted as he landed in front of the pair, startling them out of their wits.

"Who are you?" The boy choked out.

"I'm Harry Potter, but that's not important. What's important is that one of the artifacts in my possession has recognized you! It begs for a bearer of suitable strength, and it deems you suitable!" Harry said, removing the bright ruby Mark of Khorne from his pocket. The mark seemed to gravitate towards the boy, who shrank back from the strange amulet.

"What is that?" He asked.

"Why, it's your amulet, of course!" Harry said, putting the necklace around the boy's neck. The boy's aura shifted from being nonexistent into an angry, boiling red. The boy's features contorted in rage for a second, before it shifted back into a more mundane expression.

"Oh, and here are the components for your new wand, as your newfound power will make you much too strong for the mundane sticks that are commonly available." Harry said, handing a vial of dried out Bloodletter blood, which still continued to boil even in powdered form, as well as a hunk of Warp wood.

"Wha-"

"See you at Hogwarts!" Harry said, leaping away to find Nurgle's champion. The boy, a Justin Finch-Fletchley, was quickly blessed with Nurgle's mark, as well as a length of Plaguebearer intestine and the last of Harry's Warp wood.

With his task complete, Harry left Diagon Alley, heading back to Privet Drive, now with his trunk in tow.

* * *

><p>It was on September 1st, 1991, that Harry left his house, all belongings packed away in his trunk, following Tzeentch's guidance to King's Cross station. Using a glamour to avoid notice, Harry soon slipped through the magical barrier between the mundane station and platform nine and three quarters. Boarding the scarlet steam engine, Harry's divine beauty drew long looks from almost every female who saw him. Unfortunately for him, rather than create a harem of willing nubiles, his youthful beauty ignited the motherly instinct of almost every older girl who looked at him, causing Harry to run down the length of the train to keep his sanity, a small mob of older girls chasing him, claiming to want to "Love him and hug him and squeeze him into tiny, itty-bitty pieces".<p>

Ducking into an unoccupied compartment before disguising the entrance with an illusion, Harry sat down, enjoying the simple silence.

However, Harry's presence on the train was also noticed by many other individuals. As Harry passed their compartments, many first-year students swore that their wands glowed with blue fire as the young boy passed by, and a certain quartet of students suddenly felt the urge to proceed to a certain compartment.

As the train moved through the countryside, Harry sat in the center of his compartment, playing with his knife, tossing the blade from hand to hand, entertaining himself by watching the shining blade fly through the air. Then, a knock on the door drew his attention. Opening the door, Harry saw the boy chosen by Khorne, a fearful look on his face.

"What did you do to me?" He grabbed Harry, shaking the smaller boy as he asked the question.

"I didn't do anything. I simply gave you the artifact. Do you like it?" Harry asked.

"Take it back! I... I almost..." The boy began to sob.

"You almost did what?" Harry asked, confusion on his face.

"I almost killed my grandma! If I hadn't regained control when I did, I would have killed her in a rage! Take the amulet back!" The boy cried.

"Why is that bad?" Harry asked, genuinely confused. Why would the boy not want to sacrifice someone to Khorne?

"What do you mean, 'Why is that bad?' I almost killed her! What in Merlin's name wrong with you?" The boy shouted.

"But a Sacrifice is good, right?"

"YOU WANT ME TO SACRIFICE THE ONLY FAMILY I HAVE?" The boy screamed, his rage building. Soon, the pendant around his neck began to glow red, along with his eyes, as Neville Longbottom flew into a berserker rage.

"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" Neville screamed, charging into the compartment, fists raised. He never got the chance to attack, as a powerful blow from Harry's Khorne augmented body knocked the boy out cold.

As Neville collapsed to the ground, another knock came. This time, the bushy haired girl marked by Tzeentch entered, surrounded by a halo of blue fire.

"This... this is amazing! I must thank you, Harry, without your artifact, I would still be barely scraping by with first year spells. Now, with this power, I can cast even fifth year spells with ease!" Hermione Granger said gleefully as, with a wave of her hand, blue fire spewed forth, while a pair of blue wings made of pure energy formed on her back.

"Excellent!" Harry cackled, cloaking himself with his own Warp power. Hermione entered, and had a seat across from Harry, playing with her magic, blue fire crackling around the compartment, bathing it in the ethereal fire of the warp. Slowly, Neville came to, seeing Hermione in her winged glory on one side of him, while Harry, cloaked in blue fire, on his other. His eyes were drawn to the blue pendant around Hermione's neck.

"That... That pendant! It's dangerous! Take it off!" Neville shouted, leaping at the girl. However, he was arrested in midair, Hermione freezing him in place with a wave of her hand.

A knock on the door, and Justin Finch-Fletchley strode in, bringing with him a terrible stench and a swarm of flies. He broke into a coughing fit shortly after, spraying a foul black fluid all over the window.

"Please, *Cough*, take this gift back! I don't *Cough* want to live like this!" The boy cried, coughing up more black fluid as he did so.

"Why not?" Harry asked, once again curious. Were Papa Nurgle's gifts not the best?

"What do you mean, 'Why not!' Look at me!" Justin creamed, spraying green bile everywhere. Hermione looked disgusted at the sight.

"But it's a gift! Why would I want to take it back? Hermione over there seems to be enjoying hers, so why don't you like yours?" Harry asked.

"Her gift is magical superpowers! Mine, apparently, is being disgusting!" Justin screamed, gesturing at the girl in question, the glob of green vomit sent in her direction splashing against a spherical barrier.

"But it's precisely because of that sickness that it is a gift! After all, when it passes, you'll become stronger, right?" Harry asked.

"I don't care! I don't want to live like this!" Justin shouted, just as another knock came.

The door opened, revealing Draco Malfoy standing in the doorway with a beautiful girl in each arm.

"Leave me for a bit, my dears, I have some business to attend to here. Rest assured, my pretties, that I will return to you." Malfoy said, caressing the girls' cheeks.

"We'll hold you to that, Drakey~!" The girls sang in low, sultry voices, as Draco Malfoy stepped inside, surveying the contents of the cabin. His eyes passed over the disgustingly sick Justin and the raging Neville, before scanning over the supernaturally beautiful Harry, and finally coming to rest on Hermione, her body still crackling with immense amounts of magical power.

"I have to thank you, Mr. Potter. This charm you gave me is certainly... powerful, and the ingredients you gave me have made for a truly unique wand." Malfoy said, sitting down next to the boy in question.

"I am glad you are happy with my gifts. Some of us, however, don't see it that way though." Harry said, confusion and sadness clear in his voice.

"I assume that the rest of you have also received a gift from Harry in the form of an amulet and wand components?" Hermione asked.

"Please, Harry, I'll do anything! Just take these back! I don't want to wake up, only to find that I've slaughtered my family in a rage!" Neville begged.

"But don't you like your new strength and skill at arms?" Harry asked, confused.

"I can do without it if it means that my family is safe!" Neville begged.

"But I can't take it away regardless, so you should try to enjoy yourself, right?" Harry asked.

"But... I don't want to live like this!" Justin repeated, gesturing to his body, which was currently sweating a strange green fluid, much to Malfoy and Hermione's disgust, the Tzeentch blessed girl moving away from the infected boy, coming to sit at Harry's left, while Malfoy sat at his right. Across from him sat Neville and Justin, the two dissatisfied with their gifts.

"Don't worry! I'm sure you'll grow to love your gifts soon enough!" Harry said, childish enthusiasm returning to his voice.

"But-" Neville began to speak, but was cut off.

"Now, I believe introductions are in order. I'm Harry Potter, but I am sure you all know that already!" Harry said.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Hermione said, spelling her name in the air in blue fire.

"Draco, heir to the most Noble and Ancient house of Malfoy." Draco said, his voice proud and arrogant.

"Neville Longbottom." Neville said.

"Justin Finch-Fletchley." Justin said, before turning and coughing, splattering the window with more black fluid.

"Excellent! Now-" Harry was cut off by another knock. A red headed boy poked his head in.

"Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else... is... full..." His voice trailed off as he caught sight of the five occupants of the cart.

"Nevermind then, I'll just go somewhere else..." The boy muttered, withdrawing his head, but not before Justin let loose a powerful sneeze, coating the redhead's face in black snot. The boy screamed as he stumbled through the hallway, ignoring Justin's apology.

"Why did you apologize? You just gave him a great gift!" Harry asked Justin.

"What? I sneezed all over his face!"

"And now he'll get sick as well, and get more resilient from the experience!" Harry said.

"That's a decidedly... odd... world view." Hermione said.

"How so? I spent an entire year gifted like that, and look how I turned out!" Harry said cheerfully.

"That sickness must have gotten to your brain..." Neville muttered, still stuck in depression.

"I know! I had worms in my brain for a week!" Harry said, causing the boy to turn decidedly green.

"So, what are we doing here?" Malfoy asked.

"Just getting to know each other for now. I will explain everything later, after we get sorted into houses." Harry said.

"That is acceptable." Hermione said. "But what will we do before then?"

"If it's not too much trouble, I would like to invite my two friends, Claire and Gena, inside, if we are just going to spend our time doing nothing." Draco said, before beckoning to his two girlfriends, allowing them inside. They sat down on either side of the blonde haired wizard, before busying themselves with various ministrations to Malfoy's form, causing him to tingle in anticipation as their fingers traced up and down his arms and ran through his hair.

"I believe that we should get changed into our robes for when we arrive." Hermione said, before taking said robes out, cloaking herself in darkness, and changing right in front of them, albeit outside of their view.

Harry did the same immediately afterward, while Malfoy was already dressed, as was Neville. Justin left the room, returning several minutes later wearing vomit stained black robes.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, as Malfoy and Hermione toyed with their respective gifts, Harry using the time to carve a Star of Chaos into the compartment's floor with his sacrificial knife, while Neville and Justin watched the other occupants of the car with fear.

* * *

><p>By the time the train arrived, it was already night. The seven occupants of the train compartment stepped out, following the directions of a giant, bearded man, the first years getting into a set of boats which would take them across the lake. Harry shared his boat with the other aspiring Chaos champions, each member of the small group drawing strange looks. Then, the boats set off across the lake, gliding smoothly across the water. Looking down, Harry saw a giant eye staring back at him. After a cursory glance, the giant squid shied away, no doubt cowed by Harry's intimidating psychic aura.<p>

Once the boats made it across, their occupants disembarked, before making their way to the school entrance. There, they were met by the same green robed witch that Harry had encountered in Diagon Alley in the company of Hermione. Looking over the crowd, her eyes lingered on Harry, as well as Hermione, who was still cloaked in blue energy, as well as Justin, who was currently covered in weeping sores.

"Welcome to Hogwarts! I am Professor McGonagall, the deputy headmistress." She called out, causing the conversations between the first years to peter out as they focused on the teacher.

"The start of the schoolyear feast will begin shortly. Before the feast may begin, however, you must all be sorted into your houses. I suggest that you all prepare yourselves for the Sorting ceremony. There are four houses that you may be sorted into. They are: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin." She said the last house name with a measure of distaste. "The sorting ceremony shall begin momentarily. I suggest you all prepare yourselves." Then, without further ado, the professor opened the door with a wave of her wand, allowing the students to enter the main hall. The attention of the entire hall was on the various first year students, specifically several unique individuals. The first to be noticed was Hermione, still surrounded in her crackling blue aura, while her energy wings still graced her back, as Hermione had taken a liking to those appendages, and had decided to keep them. Wonder turned to disgust as Justin shambled in, still covered in weeping sores and buboes, coughing all the while. Then, finally, all attention shifted to Harry Potter. The young boy moved with supernatural grace, his long, straight, ebony black hair fluttering behind him, as if caught in some kind of breeze, while his brilliant green eyes shined like emeralds. Several girls swooned and fainted as he glanced at them, a charming smile on his innocent looking face. The ghosts of the castle, however, shied away in fear of the boy. Something just felt terribly WRONG about him, after all.

The first years formed a line, as Professor McGonagall stood next to a stool, a ragged looking hat sitting on it.

Then, the hat began to sing, saying something about unity and how the houses must stay together in order to succeed. Once the hat stopped singing, Professor McGonagall spoke once again.

"Now, as I call your names, you will come forth to be sorted into your houses." The professor said, before looking down at the list in her hands.

"Hannah Abbot." The girl in question walked up as her name was called, the sorting hat being placed on her head.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The hat cried, the girl moving to sit down at the table in question. A 'Susan Bones' joined her shortly afterward. Then, after three more students were processed, Hermione's name came up.

The hat didn't even touch her head, screaming "RAVENCLAW!" as soon as it came within several inches of her, the house in question letting loose a thunderous cheer as the girl in question sat down at the table. Next up was Neville Longbottom. The hat sat on his head for a few seconds, before putting him into Gryffindor.

When it came to Justin, the hat put him into Hufflepuff before it touched his head as well, although it sounded more concerned for its own safety than for accurate results.

Eventually, it came down to only Harry and Malfoy remaining. The hat sorted Malfoy into Slytherin without hesitation, leaving Harry as the last student who remained unsorted.

"Harry Potter." The name was called, and the entire hall's attention was, once again, focused on the beautiful young boy who practically radiated innocence as he walked up to the hat, a childish smile on his face.

Then, as soon as the hat touched his head, it began to scream.

"ABOMINATION! GET ME OFF OF HIM! SLYTHERIN! GODRIC'S GREY TONSILS, GET ME OFF OF HIM! SLYTHERIN DAMMIT, SLYTHERIN!" The hat continued to scream as it was taken off the boy's head, Harry walking over to his house's table. Nobody was clapping for him, everyone being too focused on the hat's cries, the object in question bawling inconsolably on its stool.

"It was awful... The blood, all that blood..." The hat muttered under its breath. Then, as Harry was almost at his table, a single pair of hands started to clap as Malfoy celebrated. Slowly, a ripple of cautious clapping spread across the room, drowning out the hat's raving. Harry took a seat next to Malfoy, and waited for the feast to begin. The applause died down as Dumbledore, the headmaster, stood.

"Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Now, before the feast can begin, I have a few words to say: Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment, Tweak!"

With those words, a great pile of food appeared on a multitude of plates that covered the four house tables, allowing the feast to begin. Harry daintily loaded his plate with a multitude of foods, mostly meats. Then, he pulled out his sacrificial knife, the blade screaming as it sliced through chicken, any meat it touched slowly beginning to twist from warp energy. Harry then ate the neatly sliced, mutated meat. Those sitting nearby could have sworn they heard it scream as Harry ate it.

Looking around for the faces of his fellow Chaos champions, Harry spied Neville first. The boy was seemingly growing more and more frustrated as the roasted pig he was trying to carve refused to cooperate. Finally, the boy snapped, his eyes glowing red as he flew into a rage, ripping the roasted meat apart with his bare hands before shoving it, bones and all, into his mouth. Then, the rage subsided, and the boy looked on sheepishly as the rest of the table stared at the boy who had devoured an entire roast pig in the span of a few seconds.

Hermione, meanwhile, was the envy of her table. Several students crowded her as she ate, likely questioning her as to the origin of her prodigious magical strength. Harry caught the flash of sapphire as Hermione showed off her Mark of Tzeentch. However, the exact opposite was happening at the Hufflepuff table, with Justin being seated at one end of the table, while the rest of the Hufflepuffs were densely packed on the other end.

Finally, Harry's eyes came to rest on Malfoy, who was feeding one of his two female companions, both of which had been sorted into Slytherin as well. The girl in question was lying down across the bench, head in Malfoy's lap, a coy smile on her face. Both girls had fawned on the boy incessantly during the ride, proof of Draco's Slaaneshi blessing. All it took was a few depraved rituals, and Draco Malfoy would become a perfect champion for his god!

Harry continued to eat, answering the occasional question from one of his new house-mates, although his somewhat disturbing childlike demeanor, along with the screaming knife that he quickly sliced his meat into ribbons with, soon drove all but the most determined questioners off.

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><p>Albus Dumbledore looked at a certain green eyed, black haired boy with barely disguised concern. He had paid more attention than most to the Sorting Hat's distress, and quite frankly, was disturbed. The hat must have sensed the fragment of Voldemort's soul in him, causing him to be sorted incorrectly. It was the only possible explanation! How could any child, especially one as innocent as Harry apparently was, ever qualify as something so terrible that the Sorting Hat had begged to be takin off his head?<p>

Regardless, Harry's sorting into Slytherin, whether by fate or by mistake, had put a serious damper on all of Dumbledore's plans for the boy. Having all but explicitly stated that the boy belonged in Gryffindor, Dumbledore had made extensive arrangements for once that had occurred, but Slytherin was all Severus' domain. While Minerva would be more than happy to co-operate with him when it came to the Boy-who-lived, Snape, while loyal, would have been extremely averse to any indication that Potter was receiving special treatment.

Tapping his glasses, he examined the pale skinned, black haired boy once again. His spectacles allowed for him to 'see' a person's magical potential as a disturbance in the air around them, and he was curious about Harry's. What he saw shocked him to his very core. An ordinary wizard would have a very faint, barely visible aura around him, but Harry's was clearly visible, and extended in one massive, multicolored, seething bubble to encompass most of the room! Occasionally, Dumbledore noted, small bubbles of magic would actually break away entirely from Potter's magic reserve, before joining up with the ambient magic field generated by the school's warding system.

As he was examining this field, he noticed four other interesting auras in the room. The most visible of them was the Ravenclaw girl, Hermione Granger, the girl surrounded by a crackling blue aura that was visible even to the naked eye, and extended even further out invisible to it! An angry, boiling red aura surrounded a boy that Harry recognized as Neville Longbottom, the boy who, Dumbledore noted, had torn apart and swallowed an entire roast pig in what seemed like some sort of magically induced rage.

A Justin Finch-Fletchley carried a sickly green aura, the energy radiating off the boy in waves, like some sort of ethereal stench, not surprising considering the Muggle Born student's strange magical malady, which had baffled everyone that Professor McGonagall had described it to. The final aura, Dumbledore noted with some distaste, belonged to a Slytherin named Draco Malfoy, the boy in question shamelessly exploiting a pair of girls that he had no doubt intimidated into becoming his mistresses through use of his pure-blood heritage. His aura was a decadent pink, seemingly pulsing as he stroked the hair of the girl leaning against him.

Then, his eyes wandered back to Harry, and Dumbledore noticed something odd about his aura's coloration. Ordinary auras were barely visible, seeming to faintly tint the nearby air in a single color, like purple or blue. In the case of the four unique students, their auras were clearly visible and easily distinguished in terms of color. However, Harry's aura was unique in that it incorporated the colors of all the other four unique auras in the room, blending angry red, pulsating pink, sickly green, and electric blue into one constantly swirling malestorm that made Dumbledore's mind hurt just by looking directly at its source!

Tapping his spectacles once again, Dumbledore quietly sighed in relief now that his eyes no longer were staring at an impossible vortex. He spent the rest of the feast deep in thought, his mind pondering the enigma that was Harry Potter.

* * *

><p>Dessert was delicious, and Harry was free to indulge with the blessing of Slaanesh. After all, the god's blessing made his figure remain at the epitome of beauty for his time, regardless of how much or how little he ate. As such, his plate was quickly loaded with pastries, cakes, and confections of all shapes and sizes, all of which vanished with disturbing speed. Next to him, Malfoy seemed to be taking an almost orgasmic pleasure from the new sensations afforded to him by the Mark of Slaanesh.<p>

Finally, dessert drew to a close, much to Harry's disappointment. It was then that Dumbledore spoke again, giving a set of reminders, namely stating that A. The Forbidden Forest was, in fact, Forbidden, B. Magic was forbidden in the corridors between classes, which drew a short laugh from Tzeentch, and C. That the third floor corridor on the right hand side was out of bounds for anyone who did not 'wish to die a most painful death'.

"_Had he said that last statement any differently, even Khorne the Thick Skulled would have realized that he's trying to bait someone, specifically you, as you are the only student of any interest in this disappointing lot. That man is a shame to plotters and schemers everywhere! I'll be glad to show him just how a true lord of treachery and deceit operates!" _Tzeentch declared, passion entering the usually dispassionate god's voice. As Harry already knew, Tzeentch took his job as the lord of sorcery, deceit, change, etc. VERY seriously.

Then, Dumbledore had decided to lead the school in a performance of the School Song, which Harry enjoyed, although his Daemonic chanting of the song's lyrics was rather unnerving, to say the least.

Finally, when the song was finished, the students followed their house Prefects down to their respective dormitories, where they would get a good night's rest and prepare for an exciting first day of school.

Harry clutched his knife in anticipation.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: As this chapter's existence indeed proves, this story will be continued. With regards to some of my older stories, Special Task in particular, I am finding it difficult to get the motivation to work on them. Whenever I look back on my earlier work, I can't help but cringe slightly at the rather Mary Sue-ish action present in said story. While I have the storyline all planned out, I just can't find the motivation I need to finish the story, which, by all rights, should have been done ages ago.**

**My newer stories, at least to me, do not have this blandness, being much more engaging reads, at least for me, so I just find it easier to work on them, hence the focus on updating them before my older stories. **


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